


ifnêg uzbad-dashat

by eyesonly



Series: FiKi Week 2018 [5]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Both are Princes, Condensed fic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Sex, captive prince au, this could have been waaaaay longer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 09:10:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15264165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyesonly/pseuds/eyesonly
Summary: Prince Fili of the Iron Hills is captured by his ancestral enemy Prince Kili of Erebor. Secrets run deep within them both.





	ifnêg uzbad-dashat

**Author's Note:**

> FiKi Week Day 5: Princes or Kings. I chose Princes.
> 
> So I'm calling this a condensed soup of a fic. Should it be longer and more fleshed out. Yeah probably. But it's FiKi week and I needed to get it out (I worked on this for two days). So maybe I'll actually sit and flesh it out. 
> 
> This is vaguely based on the Captive Prince trilogy of books. Then I realized it was kind of based of Game of Thrones?? It wasn't my intention but you'll understand ;)
> 
> Ifnêg uzbad-dashat means "capturing the prince" in Khuzdul.

The attack came swiftly. He was told there was a pack of roving Orcs bordering their lands. He and his closest regiment made their way to the reported spot to find nothing. The ambush comes moments later. His men are methodically incapacitated one by one.

He sees his cousin, Dain, one of his most trusted companions, shaking hands with one of the assailants as he is held back, the betrayal evident. A pommel of a sword comes down on his head and blackness is the only thing he sees.

Prince Fili of the Kingdom of the Iron Hills awoke to darkness. He was moving, perhaps in a wagon or carriage. He moves his head to feel the linen of a sack on his head, his arms are tied together behind him. He struggles for a moment, but knows it is futile.

Fili can’t tell how much more time is spent before he is pulled out of whatever he is been transported in. He is forced to walk an undetermined distance until he is forced roughly on his knees.

The hood is ripped off and he winces at the sudden light. He blinks trying to adjust his eyes, a figure sitting in a regal-looking throne looks down on him.

“Prince Fili of the Iron Hills, what a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance,” The voice is deep and amused, his Khuzdul is accented as if it isn’t quite natural.

He lets out a low growl when he finally pieces together where he is.

“Let me go, you Ereborian scum!” He lunges forward, but a guard pushes him back.

Fili’s chest heaves and he glares at the figure who walks forward his face coming into better view.

Fili had never seen him himself but recognized his dark appearance from the other Ereborian warriors he had battled in the past. He was Prince Kili of the Kingdom of Erebor.

They were both dwarves. Both princes. Their kingdoms were bitter rivals from ancestral wrongdoings. The Iron Hills and Erebor were once one kingdom. 

 

The Iron Hills wanted to preserve their history and have the dwarven people remain solitary from other races. They wore traditional clothing, spoke the traditional language, and especially did not communicate or trade with other races.

Erebor wanted to thrive and progress with races like the men and elves. They adopted the universal language of Westron, updated their technologies, benefited from the shared knowledge of their allies regardless of race. They however were possibly the richest kingdom and were never known for their particular generosity or charity to other kingdoms in need.

“Did your cousin not explain his betrayal to you? You were worth some land and riches, Dain is an idiot. You are mine now, fallen prince. I own the Golden Warrior Prince now, the one thing keeping me from finally defeating the Iron Hills and bringing it back to its rightful place in Erebor,” Kili grins mischievously as Fili stares in horror.

“I don’t believe you. They say you have the tongue of a snake, you are to never be trusted,” Fili spits out, his words more confident then he feels.

“If only your dense cousin were that wise, maybe you wouldn’t be here,” Kili smirks before turning and calling out orders in Westron that Fili cannot understand.

Hands pick him up and he is taken away from the great hall. He is lead through what feels like a maze of hallways and doors. He is held down and a liquid is forced down his throat. He tries to spit it out but his mouth is closed and his nosed blocked of air until he swallows. 

It takes only minutes for his head to feel like it’s floating and all the fight slipping from his body. He is then pushed into a bathing chamber. His arms are released and he is stripped and guided into a bath. The scent is sickeningly sweet and it makes him want to vomit, but he’s body feels like lead.

A wound on his forehead is bandaged and he doesn’t understand why he is being treated so relatively well. He knows in the Iron Hills that if it was Kili in his place, his head would be on a stake already.

The chambermaids scrub him clean until his skin burns. The ceremonial braids and beads are removed from his hair with a detangling comb and all he can do is mutter a soft, “No.” They wash his hair, golden tendrils hanging in his face.

A knock is heard at the doors and the chambermaids that had been bathing him get up and scurry away. Kili comes in with a pleased look.

“Look at you, looking like a respectable member of society. Not a barbarian any more,” Kili muses kneeling by the tub.

Fili glares and tries to speak but frowns.

Kili grins deviously, “I don’t know the name in Khuzdul, but it a calming concoction. I couldn’t have you hurting any of my people.”

Fili continues to glare in the tub, willing his body to strangle the other dwarf.

“Naturally, my first thought was to just kill you or lock you away in the dungeons forever. But then I thought of something better. To have you as my personal trophy. Show the people of Erebor the true weakness of the Iron Hills. The feared Golden Warrior, shackled and chained, serving the true prince of the dwarven kingdoms,” Kili explains with great pleasure.

Fili feels a moment of strength and launches his wet body at the smug prince with a guttural cry. Kili easily avoids him and takes him by the throat pinning him to the wall.

“It is going to be so much fun breaking you,” He gives Fili a sadistic smile before letting him go and leaving the chambers.

The following days (weeks?) are a drugged blur. Fili is fitted with a collar and manacles on his wrists and ankles. He has is own private quarters that serve as a cell. It is clean, he has a bed, and is given food multiple times a day. He is kept clean and forced to wear delicate linens, he feels like he is treated almost like a doll. He wishes to be roughed up and beaten, anything that makes him feel like he is fighting to escape.

He is dragged to parties and banquets, kept chained at the Prince’s side. He is drugged less and less, the permanence of his situation becoming his reality. He gradually learns Westron though he knows his words are clunky and make him sound like a simpleton. 

What bothers him the most is how stupidly likeable the other prince, his captor, has become. Kili is cruel and unrelenting, seriousness beyond his years. But he is witty and charming, even Fili unable to deny how handsome the rival prince was. On top of all the things, he finds himself coerced into Kili’s room at night. His own quarter’s soon being abandoned as he warms Kili’s every night.

He feels disgusted at himself at first for giving in so quickly. He is a prince, a warrior, now reduced to a bed warmer. He stops trying to escape and plot the demise of the other prince when he understands that he has no place back in the Iron Hills. Dain has likely taken over and would kill him on sight. He belongs nowhere and the thought terrifies him.

Fili does find some purpose when Kili asks him to train him in battle. Kili has led a rather pampered and bureaucratic life, never actually seeing the face of war. Fili is beyond excited to do something other than laying around and being paraded about.

“The rumors are you are the greatest warrior of all the dwarven people, I might as well get some use from you.”

He helps Kili only because it gives him something to do, some goal to attain. He makes sure to be as abrasive and harsh as possible, pushing Kili harder than his own trainer Dwalin was. 

A camaraderie of sorts develops over time. Fili learns of the Ereborian royal family, Kili being the acting leader until his 80th birthday when he can be officially be crowned King. Much like Fili he was an orphaned child. His uncle being removed from the line of succession after marrying a Hobbit from the West. He also met his ambitious cousin Gimli, who unlike Dain, openly voiced his disdain for Kili and that his family was better suited to run the kingdom. 

During a particularly hard practice session, after harshly pushing Kili, the younger prince lashed out with his sword, Fili nearly fumbling to block his raging actions.

His words are a mix of Khuzdul and Westron and seem nonsensical until he hears, “You savages killed her! My mother died at your hands!”

Fili is able to gradual calm him as his energy wanes.

“The Iron Hills don’t murder dwarrowdams, I’m sorry about your mother. She did not die at our hands. If it makes you feel any better Ereborians killed my father.”

Kili still breathing harshly looks at him, “No it doesn’t. Go to your chambers, I’m done with you today.”

The more they avoid talking about their lineages the more they are able to live in somewhat peace. They share stories and tales from their respective homelands. Kili learns that Fili defies the stereotypes of the bruteish people he has been told of the Iron Hills. Fili is gentle and much more intelligent than he imagined. After months of Fili being in his capture, he has grasped Westron enough that he catches Fili reading his books. Fili also impressed with Kili’s skill with a bow, often participating in archery competitions with neighboring lands.

As they get closer, Fili gets braver. He feels as though he can ask for favors and gifts. He asks of his things from when he was captured. 

“What happened to my clothes and the things I wore when I first arrived?” He is laying in bed with Kili.

Kili’s hands running through his golden blond hair. Something Kili seems overly fond of.

“The chest in the corner. I was going to burn them, but I never quite brought myself to do so.”

Fili turns to his stomach and looks at him.

“May I have them back? There are things in there I would like to have. I’ve accepted my fate here, but I would like to have some things to remind me of my home.”

Kili hesitantly obliges. He goes to the chest and gives him his clothes and beads from his hair. Fili doesn’t bother asking if he can put them back in, but eagerly braids his own hair, Kili watching in curiosity.

“What do the braids mean?”

“My status. Battles I’ve won. If one is courting or married, there are braids for that. If there is a birth of a child, a death. It’s our own secret language.”

“What do _your_ braids mean?” Kili presses as he looks at the incricate and different braids. 

Fili looks at him, “This shows the status of a prince. This is a braid of mourning.”

Kili feels a slight pang of guilt but lets him continue going through his things. 

Fili looks back down and rummages through the tunic finding a hidden pouch that was sewn into the fabric. He takes the leather sack out and pulls out a ring with a glittering stone.

Kili gasps and then glares at him, “You thief!”

“Thief? What are you going on about with thief? This ring is mine!” Fili looks incredulously.

“That is a priceless Erebor artifact!”

Fili scoffs looking at the ring then at him.

“My father gave it to me. I didn’t steal it. It’s not from Erebor.”

“Then your father is a thief!”

“Take that back, you ungrateful, spoiled, uncouth-”

“Uncouth?! You are a backwards brute and you want to call me uncouth? That is a ring made from a piece of the Arkenstone.”

“How do you know? It’s just a stone,” Fili says defensively holding the ring closer to him.

“Anyone from the Erebor royal family would recognize the Arkenstone. It is an Erebor treasure and should be returned to us.”

“It was my mother’s. You are not taking it.”

Kili’s brows turn down further into a glare.

“What game are you playing at, savage?”

Fili furrows his brow still cradling the ring. Hurt by the insults he hasn’t heard in months.

“I’m not playing any game. I just wanted my things back, you already have taken everything else from me, can I not be gifted with some small comfort from my home?”

“No, it’s not that. That ring was _my_ mother’s. It couldn’t have possibly been your mother’s. This ring has been in my family for centuries,” Kili frowns in his own confusion.

Fili shakes his head and finally shows him the ring. 

“It cannot possibly be the same ring. See it even has my mother’s name on the band,” Fili shows him wanting to prove his own family’s innocence on the matter.

Kili looks at the inscription of dwarvish runes and his face immediately pales.

_**Dis** _

Kili shakes his head, pushing him away.

“No, no, that is my mother’s name. Not yours.”

Fili frowns more his own confusion growing.

“Your mother was named Dis too?”

“Yes! Dis! The High Queen of Erebor! This is her ring! It went missing after her death, I saw this ring on my mother’s finger everyday. She was killed by your people and it went missing! This is my mother’s ring, not yours!” Kili sounds almost hysterical.

“My father gave this to me with his dying breath. He was ambushed by a group of Ereborian warriors. I never met my mother but I know this was her ring, my father would have never lied to me,” Fili defends vehemently. 

Kili is now pacing, trying to wrap his mind around the presence of the ring.

“You never met your mother?” Kili asks.

Fili shakes his head quickly.

“My father raised me, he didn’t talk much of her. I had assumed she died in childbirth. I do know he loved her deeply.”

“I never met my father. She said he was a warrior but could never truly be a father. She still spoke fondly of him, I assumed he had perhaps died as well.”

“Did you know his name?”

“She told me his name was Vali. But I never found documentation of a Vali ever being born in Erebor.”

Fili’s faces now pales, he clutches the ring tight in his hand.

“Because he wasn’t from Erebor. King Vali of the Iron Hills, my father,” Fili’s voice is almost absent, his head spinning. 

Kili looks at him in shock.

“No, you aren’t saying...that’s impossible...my mother would never...she was loyal to her people!”

“As was my father! But you cannot think that this is just a simple coincidence!”

Kili looks at him, all of the snarky bravado fallen from his face.

“Are you saying that you think that we’re…”

“Brothers. I believe we are brothers…”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr @ deanogarbage


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